So naturally, Tsutsumi's name came up a lot as I ventured into the post-Happy End Matsumoto world. The most famous song they wrote was for Hiromi Ohta. Looking for the album that had that song on it, I mistakenly cued up 1976's Handmade Art Book instead, but the mistake didn't matter, because the album opener was fantastic. And it wasn't the only song to sound awesome on first listen. So I kept on listening, and listening, and listening, and now love all eleven. And Handmade Art Book (Tezukuri no Gashuu) is just one of eight Ohta records that are essentially all Tsutsumi/Matsumoto.
Across those eight '70s albums, a few singles, and selected songs on records from the '80s and beyond, Takashi provided the lyrics to one hundred and one Hiromi Ohta songs. I've been thinking that it would be fun to translate the complete set. But I wanted to start modest, like with some obscure album track, or better yet, a non-album B-side. Which is why you're now reading this post about 1975's When the Lilacs Were in Bloom (Tsutsumi/Matsumoto).
Takashi has always (at least starting with Kazemachi Roman, and certainly on into the '80s) been interested in detail. This song hinges on one such, and I almost missed it. I'd been thinking, "Hmm, so is this what Takashi's hack work looks like? Must've took him five minutes to write. It's a pity, since Tsutsumi's music is good." But then at some point it hit me that the flower references were not there just for the hazy vibes (writing a love song? gotta have flowers, lots of flowers). It's that the narrator is focusing all her attention on that single hair adornment, and letting that one object stand in for the whole relationship.
It may not be an example of Takashi's best writing, but it's not hack work either. Mea culpa. The words are indeed worthy of Tsutsumi's tune. Maybe even of those horn lines.
It's interesting to note that, six years later — maybe because the phrase had been tucked away here on a non-album B-side, far out of sight — Takashi transplanted the "I want to meet you, and I cannot meet you" motif/wordplay and reworked it into the chorus of The Wind is Rising.
Takashi has always (at least starting with Kazemachi Roman, and certainly on into the '80s) been interested in detail. This song hinges on one such, and I almost missed it. I'd been thinking, "Hmm, so is this what Takashi's hack work looks like? Must've took him five minutes to write. It's a pity, since Tsutsumi's music is good." But then at some point it hit me that the flower references were not there just for the hazy vibes (writing a love song? gotta have flowers, lots of flowers). It's that the narrator is focusing all her attention on that single hair adornment, and letting that one object stand in for the whole relationship.
It may not be an example of Takashi's best writing, but it's not hack work either. Mea culpa. The words are indeed worthy of Tsutsumi's tune. Maybe even of those horn lines.
It's interesting to note that, six years later — maybe because the phrase had been tucked away here on a non-album B-side, far out of sight — Takashi transplanted the "I want to meet you, and I cannot meet you" motif/wordplay and reworked it into the chorus of The Wind is Rising.
:::
I cried as I was dreaming.
My white pillow
shows the traces of tears.
I want to meet you, and I cannot meet you,
and my heart is trembling.
Oh, please let your kindness come my way.
I have a hair adornment
plaited with lilac blooms.
I'll hold on to it, just in case we meet again.
The colors of the flowers are fading away —
and now love will be vanishing too, I guess.
Even the lingering scent of a kiss
is becoming a miserable memory.
Oh, please let your kindness come my way.
But though the lilac flowers,
having bloomed,
will scatter soon,
I am not going to forget you, not ever —
you who have vanished
deep inside of a dream.
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